And I Have Waited
by Ronnie
Summary: Duo is hurting... in more than one ways. (Fluff. Cutting. Slash. 1x2)


And I Have Waited  
PG  
  
Summary: Duo's been hurting, in more than one ways.  
  
A/N: This came out way cheesier than I intended it to be. I wanted angst and darkness but instead I got half-assed angst and fluffyness that is fluffy enough to fill a pillow. Also, it is my first Gundam fic, so please... forgive me.  
  
Fascinated violet eyes watched as clear liquid became pink, colored with the essence of life. They followed the stream that swirled around the virginal white sink, staining its pure color, marring it, violating it. More and more crimson droplets fell into the sink, splashing like waves onto ivory walls, creating their own little markings on the surface. Trembling hands reached for the faucet, turning it slowly. A new tidal wave of water flowed down from its mouth and washed away the red.  
  
A clatter of plastic hitting the floor echoed off the silent walls of the tiny bathroom as nimble fingers, turned numb by rushes of excitement, let loose. Quickened breaths filled the silence that followed and a body slid against the wall, coming to rest down on the floor, a broken doll discarded by a spoiled child.  
  
Eyelids fluttered to a close over striking opaque orbs, a sigh released through pursed lips.  
  
Duo Maxwell leaned his head back against the cool tiles of the wall behind him, cradling his bleeding arm, shuddering against the feeling that rushed through his body. He was alive. He existed. He was there. He clung onto the high, feeling it starting to slip away, grasping for a few more moments of bliss. Tears stung at his eyes, seeking release, and he bit down onto his lips, hard, choking back a sob. Blood blossomed from his skin and his tongue reached out, almost on its own, licking away the precious drop. A half sigh, half moan was released from within him, the tears long forgotten, as his whole body seemed to awaken. He felt validated, as he sat there, bleeding and breathing heavy, recovering from the almost orgasmic feeling that cutting gave him.  
  
And then it was over. He landed back into reality with a painful thump, feeling its weight resting once again on his shoulders. He rose on shaky legs, leaning onto the wall for support, and slowly walked to the towel rack, grabbing a pink one and pressing it against the cut in his arm. Blood was still oozing out of the straight cut but its flow was dwindling. Soon it would be really over. As he walked over to the sink, he caught a glance of himself in the mirror, locking gazes with his reflection.  
  
Sunken and sullen violet eyes gazed back at him from behind a curtain of chestnut hair, accusing him, piercing right through him. The dark circles under his eyes stood against his too-pale skin and the rosy blush that had once colored his cheeks was gone. His long hair fell in a tangled mess onto his back and odd wisps of it framed his face. Sickened by the image that was seen before him, Duo quickly averted his eyes, returning to the task of cleaning up after himself. Soon, all evidence of what went on was gone.  
  
Duo knew that the others were not stupid. He was pretty sure that they knew what he did when he locked himself in the tiny bathroom for a long period of time. He was pretty sure they noticed the drastic change in his appearance but the truth was, the American couldn't care less. As long as they didn't bother him, he didn't mind.  
  
Painfully, he pulled the towel away from the cut and then turned to inspect his handy work. The cut was a straight line of crimson, running down his forearm. It seemed to fit in with the countless other cuts that marred the American's skin, creating a pattern of sort. A ghost of a cynic smile tugged at the corner of Duo's mouth as unlocked the door and stepped out of the bathroom, into the darkened hallway. Shadows danced on the walls, surrounding him and stretching their ghostly fingers at him and he hurried down the hall towards his room. His room. A tiny prison inside a wreck of a house, where they forced to stay during this mission. There was no door to His Room. He didn't mind. He couldn't care less.  
  
Soon, he was lying on the bed (a thin mattress placed onto a rickety wooden frame), gazing up into the ceiling. His eyelids drooped and sleep pulled at him, calling at him, whispering promises of a better world inside his dreams. He allowed himself to be pulled and soon he was dreaming.  
  
Heero watched, hidden by the shadows, as Duo existed the bathroom and made the short trip to the room in which he had chosen to stay. Heero watched, hidden in the shadows, Duo's agonized face and the emptiness in his eyes. Heero saw, from his hiding place, the way Duo's shoulders slumped and the way he seemed faded... as if he was trying to disappear. Heero told himself that he was making cold, disconnected observations about the American Gundam pilot and that he didn't care, but even he wasn't fooled. As he watched Duo enter his room, he slowly made his way down the hall, creeping along the walls silently like only a soldier trained by war could. He heard the rustle of covers as Duo climbed onto his bed, and the soft breath that he released as he sunk into obliviousness. Thoughts raced through his mind and everything in him shouted that now was the time to get away, to run, but the soldier inside him refused to turn away. He would face this. He listened to Duo's even breaths and knew that the boy was asleep.  
  
Only then did Heero allow himself to step into the light, standing at the doorway of Duo's sanctuary, watching the face of the sleeping American. Sleep did nothing to relieve the stress that etched itself onto Duo's features. The creases between his brows remained, even as he dreamt, and the dancing lights from the window made the circles under his eyes stand out. Duo Maxwell was a wreck. He was falling apart, torn by an inner turmoil that Heero Yuy could do nothing about.  
  
On the makeshift bed, Duo Maxwell moaned quietly and shifted, thus causing the thin blanket to slid off his chest. Heero drew in a soft breath and prepared to move away from the doorway incase Duo woke up, but there was no further movement. For a moment, Heero remained completely still and silent, his cobalt gaze fixed on the thin strip of skin that was revealed to him.  
  
It was as if invisible strings were pulling at him, drawing him into the room. As if he was watching himself stepping slowly and quietly into the room, coming to stand over Duo's bed, gazing down at the sleeping boy. He tried remaining detached and aloof, as he always did around Duo, but was having a hard time doing so. He felt his gaze soften against his wish and, although he fought it, the urge to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Duo's ear or trace the line of thin scars than ran down the boy's arm.  
  
He crouched, his face now aligned with Duo's, gazing at him with wide eyes. Heero never thought himself to be a romantic guy, or even a remotely emotional one, but as his eyes ran over the sleeping boy's features, ridiculous thoughts of hearts and cuddles and butterflies filled his mind. Inhaling a deep breath, he reached out and softly touched his finger to the skin of Duo's cheek. The perfect surface was damp with the remains of tears and flushed with the remains of a pain-induced rush. Heero wished he could stop Duo's pain. It was a stupid thought, the thought of a 12 years old girl, but also his own. He wanted to be the one to stop Duo's pain.  
  
Suddenly, Duo's eyes opened, and Heero found himself staring into a pair of violet crystals. He almost fell back, feeling his cheeks heat up. Was his blushing?!  
  
"Heero? Nani?" Duo's voice was slightly hoarse, as if he had been yelling for a long period of time. Heero swallowed hard, a frown settling onto his features as he scrambled to his feet, trying to think of a way to explain the situation to Duo.  
  
"I heard noises coming from your room... I thought I would check it out." He offered lamely, wincing at the terrible lie. Duo's expression didn't change as he sat up on his bed, cringing when it squeaked and moaned in protest. He fixed Heero with a studying look, his purple eyes blank as a sheet of paper.  
  
"Noises... from my room..." he said and his voice was hollow, just like his eyes. Heero nodded. Silence descended upon the both of them until Heero couldn't take it anymore.  
  
"K'so, Duo! Why do you do this?!" he yelled out, all of his frustration pouring into those words. He expected Duo to put on a confused face and try to avoid the question. He thought that Duo's eyes would become frightened at Heero's discovery. None of that happened. Duo's expression never wavered. His eyes remained blank.  
  
"Do what, Heero?" he asked quietly, so quietly that his words almost went unheard. Frustrated to the point of breaking, Heero made for Duo's arm and held it up, cringing at the pained expression that fleeted across the American's features.  
  
"This! Why do you hurt yourself? What are you looking for?" he asked angrily, pointing at the multiple scars and gashes that ran down the length of Duo's arm. The latest one started bleeding again, staining both the sheets and the American's skin.  
  
"Let go of my arm, please. You're hurting me."  
  
"I thought you liked that!" Duo recoiled as if Heero had slapped him and the Japanese boy immediately felt sorry for his words. He sighed, letting go of Duo's arm and running a hand through his brown locks. "Listen, Duo... I just want to know why."  
  
"I want to know why, as well. Why do you want to know? Why do you care?" blankly, quietly, as if he didn't have the strength to speak up. His eyes were looking down at the floor and he wouldn't meet Heero's eyes.  
  
"Why do I want to know? Has it crossed your mind that I might care about you, Duo Maxwell?"  
  
Silence once again. Duo was now looking at him with big violet eyes; eyebrows raised high towards his hairline. Heero wanted to slap himself. He felt like he was stuck inside a bad romantic movie.  
  
"Duo... I'm really not one for big speeches... or even small ones..." he said dryly, "but I do care about you. A lot. More than you could ever imagine. I want to know why. I want to know why so I could try to help you."  
  
"It makes me feel alive again." Duo's eyes were big and shiny with tears as he stared at the Japanese youth. Heero felt the urge to throw his arms around Duo and hold him close. It was so unlike him, to have those kinds of feelings towards anyone, especially Duo. "Only when I bleed I feel alive. Only when I feel the pain coursing through my body I know I am alive. I can't carry on dying, Heero. I can't live with this feeling inside of me. I just can't."  
  
Duo's words still lingered in the air when Heero wrapped his arms around the small frame of the American boy. He held on, feeling the warmth of Duo's skin even through his clothes. At first, Duo lay frozen in his embrace but then his arms came to wrap around Heero and his body shook with released sobs. Heero could hear a world of pain in the tiny gasps and cries that left Duo's mouth, echoing in the otherwise silent room.  
  
His mind raced with words, soothing words that he thought could calm down Duo's battered spirit. What to say, what could he possibly say to the pained boy that would make his aching go away? Almost on its own, his hand rose to smooth a tangled array of chestnut locks away from Duo's face, gently, slowly. The touch of the smooth skin of Duo's forehead against his palm sent delicate, delicious shivers down the course of Heero's spine. Slowly, the American raised his head, fixing his violet gaze upon the Japanese boy's features. His brows furrowed, his eyes full of wonder behind the coat of unshed tears. His mouth opened, as if to speak, but then he seemed to change his mind, clamping his lips shut over his unspoken words. Heero found himself drowning in pools of violet crystals, unable to tear away his gaze.  
  
"Heero..." Duo's voice sounded shaky, adding vulnerability to the tears in his eyes and the tint of rose to his cheeks. His clammy, pale skin made his dark hair stand out in a sharp contrast and the shadows that danced on his face gave him a ghostly, deathly look. Heero quenched the thought as soon as it had appeared, refusing to think of Duo as 'deathly'. "Heero... why?" a sad smile twitched the corns of Heero's mouth as he gazed at the boy whose body was locked inside the sanctuary of his arms. Heero could not recall the last time he had been left speechless, but as he sat there, grasping for words, which had been so plentiful the moment before, he could not come up with what to say. He knew he should tell Duo of those strange and unfamiliar urges that desired to take over his whole being, of the pulls at his lower abdomen whenever he laid eyes on the lithe form of his partner and of the beats his heart missed whenever that smooth voice washed over him. He was not one for all those mushy feelings, and they scared him (Not many things did, and that scared him too).  
  
"I wish I could explain, Duo. I really do. All I can say is that I want to help you. I know it sounds... I don't know. Unlike me, maybe... but I also know that since the moment I found out you were doing this to yourself, hurting yourself like this, I've wanted to help you... help you kill your pain." He grimaced at his words, knowing how foolish he sounded, but a tiny, sad smile broke onto Duo's lips as the last word faded into the night. He shifted, pushing away from Heero's body to sit on the bed in front of him, heaving a sigh that seemed to come from deep within him.  
  
"Listen, Heero... I appreciate all of this, I really do. I mean, you've spoken more words in the last five minutes than you did in since I've met you. You just..." and he released another sigh, racking a hand through his long hair, fumbling for words, "You have to understand that I could not ask you to help me. It would not be fair to you. I know it sounds melodramatic and presumptuous... but I bring pain with me, Heero. I am not named Shinigami for nothing, you know..." and at that he released a dark bark of laughter, a mockery to any joyous laughter ever sounded.  
  
"Duo no baka..." muttered Heero, shaking his head. "I wouldn't be offering my help if I wasn't willing to risk getting hurt. I offered. I offered myself... everything included. Take it, Duo."  
  
"It's not that simple, Heero!" his voice rose as he half jumped off the bed, struggling to gain footing as queasiness took over. Heero watched with worried blue eyes as Duo straightened himself, his face a mask of pain and sorrow. "You can't just say 'I'll help you' and expect everything to be all right once again. I don't know if I could face my old life before... before..." he gestured to his arm, down casting his eyes.  
  
"Duo, I am no fool. I don't expect magic... or even a quick remedy. It will be a slow process, but it can be done, if you're willing to do it."  
  
"Heero... stop pushing me!" Duo flung his arms into the air, wincing when the motion re-opened half closed wounds and blood began trickling down his arms. He fixed Heero with a long gaze, breathing hard, chest heaving with every breath.  
  
"I'm sorry... I don't want to push you... I want you to come willingly."  
  
"Then give me time. Give me space. I will come, eventually... when I feel like I can handle it. Right now I think I will break and crumble under the pressure. I can't afford to crumble, Heero. I need to keep myself together, in some way."  
  
"I understand that... and I am willing to wait. I will wait, for as long as needed. I'll wait, Duo, and I'll be there when you finally decide that you can come to me." His tone was determined, and Duo nodded at him. For a second, Heero thought he could see a smile gracing Duo's lips but it was gone in an instant. The American caught his gaze, holding it for the longest time before averting it to gaze outside the window. Heero watched him, knowing that he would wait until the end of time for Duo. 


End file.
